


Whisper In The Dark

by DGCatAniSiri



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, dark future
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-18
Updated: 2016-05-18
Packaged: 2018-06-09 07:26:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6895441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DGCatAniSiri/pseuds/DGCatAniSiri
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Inquisitor finds Cullen held captive in Redcliffe Castle as well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Whisper In The Dark

Anaan didn’t know if he trusted the mage from Tevinter, despite his offer of assistance. Dorian, he said his name was. He might not be a believer in the Chantry’s dogma and their worship of the Maker, whose bride was murdered by the Tevinter magisters of old, the moniker of ‘the Herald of Andraste’ notwithstanding. But he knew enough about the conflict between Tevinter and the Qunari of Par Vollen to doubt that a Tevinter would just offer his faith in a qunari man.

Still, given what had happened to the both of them, being pulled through Alexius’s hole in the main hall of Redcliffe castle, and ending up in Redcliffe’s dungeon, he didn’t exactly have many other options. He had little choice but to trust Dorian. If he didn’t, he had no one else. 

“I don’t suppose you know where we’re going,” Anaan asked.

“Me? Aren’t you the one who has been divinely chosen? Can’t you use that... green glow of yours to guide us?” Dorian shot back, a raised eyebrow and a quirked lip the indications that he was offering a joke under the circumstances. The levity was a stark contrast to the dark and gloomy appearance of the dungeons of Redcliffe castle. 

The dark and gloom probably would have been something Anaan could live with and accept on its own. But the red lyrium that was growing out of the floor unsettled him. He was a mage, he had familiarity with lyrium. He’d dealt with carta smugglers who’d provided him and the Valo-Kas with lyrium. He KNEW lyrium. While this had the same sense of magic and power surrounding it, there was something... wrong. It was like a familiar song being sung off-key. 

The dungeon was in bad shape. Not that keeping the dungeons was anyone’s first priority, but with the red lyrium growing through the ground under their feet, Anaan doubted that whoever was in control of the castle cared about upkeep, or that the rest of the castle was in any better condition. “It’s as if the castle’s been abandoned,” he murmured.

“I doubt an asset like this would be left to rot,” Dorian said. “More likely, whoever is in command, Alexius’s ‘Elder One,’ I assume, simply doesn’t care to ensure that this place is clean.” He narrowly avoided stepping in something unidentifiable. “Or sanitary.” He shook his head, muttering something presumably about the state of the dungeon’s appearance under his breath in Tevene. 

The discovery of a group of Venatori at least indicated that they were headed in the right direction. However, they’d cut the two mages off from the rest of the castle by retracting the walkway between where they stood and the rest of the dungeons.

Although he understood the security measure, Anaan had to question the design of a moat within a dungeon. It just seemed excessive.

Dorian again hissed in Tevene as he finished rifling through the pockets of the last Venatori they’d killed. “None of them have a key,” he said as he moved away from the body. “It appears we’re trapped here.”

“We’ll find a way out,” Anaan said, sounding more confident than he felt. He looked around and chose a door that they could access that wasn’t the way they came through. 

“I don’t see what exploring more of these dungeons will offer, but I’ll follow your lead,” Dorian muttered. Anaan would take it as a gesture of support.

Their journey into the depths of Redcliffe Castle’s dungeon had them find both their companions from when they’d met Alexius, having languished in the dungeon for some time, apparently since the greatly exaggerated death of the Herald. They also had a few worrying tales to offer, involving the assassination of Empress Celene of Orlais and Alexius’s mysterious ‘Elder One’ having an army of demons available to them that spread out across the world.

But the part that disturbed them all was finding Grand Enchanter Fiona with red lyrium growing out of her, as if she were ground for the red lyrium crop to be harvested from. He’d been seriously tempted to try and put her out of her misery, but he remembered Varric’s warning about touching red lyrium at the site of the Temple of Sacred Ashes, and he didn’t think he could reach her without doing just that. 

Admittedly, Cassandra and Varric weren’t in better condition, if the persistent red glow that surrounded them, the tinting of red around the edges of their eyes, and the slight distortion of their voices were any sign. But they could stand, they could fight, and they were equally determined to see the two mages sent back to their proper time so they could undo all of this. 

As the quartet made their way out of the cell block, there came a clang sound from the direction of the exit to the dungeon, and they sped up to get there. They managed to get there as a group of Venatori crossed the bridge.

“Bianca, baby, say hello to our hosts!” Varric said as he took aim.

“The dwarf named his crossbow ‘Bianca’?” Dorian murmured. Anaan shrugged. 

They made short work of the Venatori and started making their way through the corridors of the castle. They were in no better condition than the dungeon had been, not offering much better in the way of their surroundings.

“Really must speak with the maid,” Dorian murmured.

“Does he ever shut up?” Varric whispered in an aside to Anaan.

The group moved through the castle’s halls. Anaan really could not tell what was more depressing, the state of the walls and the castle’s heraldry, all the symbols of Redcliffe Castle, which had all been ignored and left to rot as red lyrium overtook the castle. Although according to Fiona, only a year had passed, looking at this place, it felt more like a decade, at least.

Anaan shivered at the thought of something powerful enough to cause this to happen. Nothing and no one should ever have that kind of power. 

The journey through the castle was unsettlingly quiet as they moved. There were the occasional sounds of distant screams, but none of them seemed particularly eager to race to the aid of those screaming. There were probably too many people screaming with this risen ‘Elder One’ for the four of them to ever manage to save them all. They were best served by this dark future not occurring, and to manage that, he and Dorian had to find a way back.

Anaan hoped telling himself that would limit the nightmares featuring those screams to only a short period of time. 

After dealing with another squad of Venatori, Anaan held up a hand to halt the others. He thought he heard...

“That’s Leliana,” he hissed, keeping his voice soft as he could hear a second, unfamiliar voice speaking to her in harsh tones. They hurried to the door where her voice was coming from. 

“I’ll die first!” Whoever was interrogating her seemed to have said the wrong thing. Anaan could hear the vehemence of her words, knew that she absolutely meant it, and quickly decided that he had no desire to learn what she had been through over the last year if it made her that willing to embrace death.

Regardless, as far as he cared, that was reason enough to batter down the door. Both Leliana and the Venatori interrogator looked up at their entrance. With a note of grim determination, Leliana spoke again. “Or you will.” With that, she pulled herself up and wrapped her legs around the Venatori’s neck. Anaan heard a sickening crack, and she released the Venatori, letting him crumple to the ground in a heap. 

She looked to the intruders, and Anaan paused. She looked old and worn, her cheeks sunken in and her lips thin and cracked. But what struck him most were her eyes, the bitter edge to them. Unlike Cassandra and Varric, she didn’t view his arrival as some miracle resurrection. It wasn’t suspicion or resignation. It was something else, something that Anaan couldn’t quite put into words. This wasn’t the Leliana he knew, who had been operating the Inquisition’s spy networks. This was a woman who had been pushed past her breaking point, who had been living with the specter of death hanging over her for so long, she would not blink at the thought of taking it or inflicting it.

Fiona had said it had only been a year since the Inquisitor and Dorian had disappeared. For Leliana, it might as well have been an entire Age.

She took note of him specifically. “You. You’re alive.” For a moment, there was just a brief hint of the woman Anaan knew, that she was recognizing him as a friend. It gave him a sense of hope, that perhaps this wasn’t as bleak a world as he feared.

“Alexius’s spell sent us forward in time,” Dorian stated. “It’s more proper to say that we never died in the first place.”

She gave him a dark look at his glib tone. “Then to send you back, we must find Alexius. He will have the answers.” She moved to a chest in the corner and pulled out a bow and quiver full of arrows, shaking her head. 

“I’m very curious about the magic involved in this spell. I know Alexius spent years on it, I helped him in some of the initial research, but it never managed to work. I wonder if this has something to do with the Breach...” Dorian trailed off, seeming to be considering the implications.

Leliana’s dark glare only got darker as she looked to the mage again. He seemed heedless of her irritation with his nattering. Anaan gently cleared his throat. “We should get moving then. Find Alexius.”

“He will be in the main hall. He has barricaded himself there,” Leliana stated. Despite the gaunt look to her features, the indications that she hadn’t had much if anything to eat in the last year, the fact that her every movement seemed to cause her pain, there was a determination to her walk. She was a woman on a mission, and she would brook no interference in her attempts to move forward. “And mages wonder why they are feared. No one should have this kind of power.”

At the moment, Anaan couldn’t bring himself to argue with her assessment. This was dangerous magic in the first place, since as Dorian had pointed out, by doing this, they’d punched a hole in the wall of reality, in time itself. The Breach had been bad enough.

He heard Dorian start trying to chat with Leliana, make small talk and attempt to learn something about the past year. Leliana was having none of it, emphasizing to him that while he might consider the things that had happened in that time no more than a thought puzzle, for her, for those who’d lived it, it had been real, and it was clear that she would not answer his questions.

Anaan looked to her. “Leliana, what happened to the others? Do you know?”

She looked to him, and for a second, it seemed there was relief in her eyes, though it wasn’t there for very long, as if him asking about the others confirmed that this was the same man she’d met at Haven. “I did not come here with any others. I came alone, thinking it might be enough to allow me access without anyone else being captured. My torturer said that there was an assault on Haven not long after my capture. He said there were no survivors, but I have little reason to trust his word. However, it has been months since I have heard of any coordinated resistance efforts.”

“That doesn’t mean there haven’t been any,” Varric stated. “Hawke, or the Hero of Ferelden, or even the Grey Wardens might have been planning something.”

“It is always possible,” Leliana stated, though she did not sound particularly positive. In her view, Anaan could figure, if there hadn’t been some push against the Elder One and their forces by now, something that could have gotten these captives out of the castle that was their prison, none was coming. Which mean if any of those who Varric had suggested had tried, they were now in no condition to raise a sword against the Venatori. But even after all she’d been through, apparently she was not going to deny Varric this little bit of hope. There was still something of the Leliana that Anaan had been coming to know over the last few weeks, buried under all the pain and torment she had suffered.

They moved further through the castle, unlocking the door ahead of them with a key taken from the torture master’s body. There was an eerie silence that surrounded them, as only their breathing and footfalls echoed in the halls. 

And then came a new sound. A scream, a howl of pain. And Anaan immediately recognized it.

“That’s Cullen!” he hissed.

Both Leliana and Cassandra nodded their assent, recognizing his voice as well. “He must have been captured at Haven,” Cassandra said.

“Or during a raid on Redcliffe castle. I would not put it past him to have attempted to raise an army in an effort to rescue any of us,” Leliana said.

Whenever he’d been captured, Anaan was not about to let him remain that way. Whoever or whatever Alexius’s ‘Elder One’ was, he’d done enough damage to the world and to Anaan’s companions. He tightened his grip on his staff and started towards the direction of the shout. If any of his companions disagreed with his choice, they wisely stayed silent.

The hall they were in led to a chamber. There came a second howl, this one more agonized than the last, and Anaan charged in, kicking in the door and surprising a pair of Venatori. One went flying as Anaan magically pushed him away, while the other, staring at his companion in surprise, ended up smacked across the face with Anaan’s staff. Before either of them could recover, both Varric and Leliana had fired off arrows that slid into the slit of their helmets and poked out the other side.

Not that Anaan was looking at the Venatori. The moment he’d struck them, they were out of his mind. All he was focusing on was Cullen.

Like Leliana had been, he was chained. Unlike her, however, his hands were encased in cuffs that reached his elbows. More concerning, however, were the protrusions of red lyrium bursting out of his body at irregular intervals.

“Cullen?” Anaan managed to choke out. 

The bound former templar managed to lift his head up. “Adaar...?” He glanced around at them. It was something of a relief that he seemed to recognize a rescue when he saw it. “This is no fever dream...” 

Anaan gave him a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “That’d make things much easier. At least then, all it would take to get out of here is to just wake up.” He finally glanced to the dead Venatori on the floor. “Did either of them have a key to these chains?” he asked.

“I... don’t know...” Cullen said, still seeming to get his bearings. He still seemed uncertain as to the reality of what was happening. Though he didn’t seem to fully believe Anaan and the others were truly there, he looked at them with a hint of lucidity. 

Anaan began riffling through the Venatori’s many pockets – Maker’s breath, how many pocket does one man need, anyway? – in search of a key. After a few moments of searching, he pulled one out and moved to the shackles.

“Be careful,” Cullen gasped out, sounding pained in every breath, the red lyrium seemingly interfering with his breathing. “The red lyrium is dangerous... deadly, even, if you come too close into contact with it.” There was an undercurrent in his statement – none of them should touch him, either, given the protrusions on his body. 

Carefully, Anaan unlocked the shackles. Despite his readiness for it, Cullen still pitched forward. Instinctively, Anaan moved to help him up, but hesitated, stopping himself as he remembered Cullen’s warning. 

“Can you stand? We are likely to encounter more Venatori before we find Alexius,” Cassandra asked.

“Not to mention a crap-ton of demons,” Varric added. 

It clearly took some effort for Cullen to pull himself up, but he did so, nodding to them. “I believe so. Give me a sword and I will...” He grunted, a combination of pain and exertion. But he wouldn’t let that stop him. “I will be able to stand at your side.”

They looked around, but there was nothing but the armor of a Venatori zealot and their weapon. It would have to do. Cullen somehow managed to get it on without much difficulty, the red lyrium protrusions seemingly able to push through the armor with little effort.

“How painful is it?” Anaan asked softly as he heard Cullen grunt yet again.

Cullen held himself away from Anaan, seeming to recoil at the attempt to offer him any kind of comfort. “It’s... manageable.”

“I know what that’s like,” Anaan said, holding out his marked hand. “This mark... There’s always a sense of pain with it. It’s always there.” Even now, there was a dull ache from the Fade cut across his hand. When he had something that he was specifically focused on, something to draw his mind’s attention, he could ignore it, for the most part. Here and now, though, he was acutely aware of the pain in his hand.

For a moment, Cullen was silent. He looked to Anaan with some touch of gratitude and sympathy. “I... I’ll be all right, I think. I’ve been through worse than this.” And the thing was, Anaan believed him. The look in his eyes said that he’d been through something that had brought him to a worse place than Venatori torture could have. Anaan hoped he would have the opportunity to ask him about it at some point. Some point in what was currently the past, preferably.

Once Cullen was clad in the armor, the helmet discarded to prevent friendly fire, the group began moving again. Anaan made a studious effort to keep Cullen in his view the whole time. He could see the fact that there was pain in his every move and step, and yet the former templar was making a concentrated effort to ignore it. Anaan had his own experiences with persistent pain, even before the mark on his hand – a side effect of mercenary work was inevitable injuries that lingered. He tried to think of something to say to Cullen that might... But there really was nothing to say.

Still... “Cullen?” 

“Yes, Herald?” Anaan could hear the tension in Cullen’s voice, the attempt to keep himself in a condition that would let him fight when called upon. 

“How long did they have you?” he asked. He’d thought about asking Leliana the same question, but she had been so closed off and brusque, he doubted that she wanted to have any discussion about his missing year. Cullen... Cullen always looked like he needed to speak about something, but never could bring himself to do so.

That same look was on his face now. He shuddered at the thought. “I’m not sure. Weeks, for certain. Probably longer.”

“I’m sorry,” Anaan said, though he knew his words couldn’t be anywhere near enough to make amends for his absence, even if it wasn’t his fault. The only person truly to blame was Alexius, and they were on their way to deal with him. 

The grimace that Cullen made resembled a smile enough Anaan assumed that his face wouldn’t cooperate any further. “You had no control over this. But... I thank you for the sentiment.” He paused briefly, though the group was continuing through the castle, forcing him to move again before he’d fully collected his thoughts.

He almost spoke again, but before he could, they were attacked by another group of Venatori. By the time that the fight was ended, whatever moment had been there between Anaan and Cullen was gone. But Anaan still aimed to keep Cullen in his view at all times, though he told himself it was simply out of concern – he’d been tortured for who knew how long, his injuries could cause him undue difficulty in combat. 

At least, that was what he told himself. He’d asked the former templar about any kind of romantic entanglements he might have back at Haven, and been told that he could offer no more than friendship. Anaan had to respect that, but... Seeing Cullen like this made his heart ache. Cullen would likely not have had this happen to him were it not for his association with the so-called Herald of Andraste. Granted, given his involvement with the Inquisition, he would probably have been killed outright without Anaan’s involvement instead of... whatever they’d been doing to him, but it was still something that had happened to him because of Anaan.

The door into Alexius’s chambers was barred by a lock consisting of a series of red lyrium seals, carried by a handful of Venatori agents scattered throughout the castle. To save time, (a thought that would be amusing under better, less apocalyptic circumstances), they separated into pairs to find the Venatori. For Dorian’s safety, Varric pulled him off to the path towards the castle library, while Cassandra and Leliana made their way to the chapel. That left Anaan and Cullen to investigate the living quarters. 

Anaan watched Cullen for any sign of him having difficulties with the pain. He noticed a wince with every move the templar made.

“Cullen, do you need to rest a moment?” he asked.

“No. The pain is... rather constant at this point. I’m afraid there’s... nothing really to be done about it.” He made that attempt at a smile again towards Anaan. “Your concern is... appreciated, though. I... I know that we only have known each other a brief time, but... I was glad to count you as a friend.”

Anaan wasn’t sure how to take that. He wanted it to mean more, though he knew better than to even attempt to count on it. He decided to pick out Cullen’s word choice. “You’re still alive, Cullen. You’re still my friend.”

“I’m alive for now. I can... feel the lyrium in my blood. It’s... it’s eating me alive. Even if I... make it out of here... I am not long for this world, I’m afraid.” 

It wasn’t unexpected, all things considered. Anaan had seen Fiona being consumed by the red lyrium, and even Varric and Cassandra showed signs of its corruption. The red lyrium was a death sentence. He couldn’t argue that. 

“I promise, I will get back to when this started. I’ll make sure that... this doesn’t happen,” Anaan said. He knew that it wouldn’t help the man in front of him, but it would be something. Assuming that it happened, he was determined not to let this future come to pass, this Elder One to rise. 

“Thank you for that much, at least,” Cullen said. 

Anaan could still see the protrusions of red lyrium, as if they were trying to burn through the armor that Cullen had appropriated. “What were they trying to do to you?” he asked.

“I’m not sure. At first, I thought they were trying to... make the lyrium grow, use me as... as mulch for it.” Cullen gently held a hand over the protrusion in the center of his chest, near his heart. “Then it... It started growing like this. And then... And then it was as if the symptoms grew worse.”

“Symptoms? So... it’s like an illness?”

That brought out a grim chuckle from Cullen. “Right. I forgot. I... hadn’t explained before you left Haven. You know I was a templar. I... I chose to abandon that life for the Inquisition. And part of that was also abandoning the Chantry’s demand that all templars drink lyrium. It’s... it’s like an addiction, I suppose. Once you’re on it, it is... very difficult to stop taking it. Those who’ve been cut off usually either turn to lyrium smugglers or simply... die. I’ve heard of some who’d managed to break free of those ties, but... they’ve mostly been stories.”

“And... you chose to stop taking the lyrium?” Anaan guessed. 

Cullen nodded. “Yes. The Inquisition demanded... No, I chose to leave the life of a templar behind me. It meant more to me that I break this hold that the templars and the Chantry had on me. But... I believe that may have made me... vulnerable to whatever they have done with the other templars.”

“Vulnerable to what, exactly?” Anaan knew the templars being affected by the Elder One’s plans was something important to focus on, but he was focused on Cullen, on his pain at the moment. The Elder One could wait.

“If it... spreads too much... I’ll lose myself to it. To the lyrium. I’ll be... as mindless as these demons we’ve fought.” He looked to Anaan, now deadly serious. “I should be able to... make it a short time yet, but... I can feel this corruption spreading, and... I’ll die first. Rather than become one of the Elder One’s mindless beasts. If it comes to that-”

“It won’t,” Anaan swore, though, of course, he had no way of ensuring that.

Cullen knew it as well as he did. “If it does, if I can’t do it... Herald- Anaan. Please. You have to do it for me.”

The look on Cullen’s face was pleading, earnest, desperate, even. Much as Anaan wanted to argue, he found he couldn’t. So, ultimately, he just nodded. “All right Cullen. If it comes to that... You have my word.”

“Thank you,” Cullen said, sighing in relief. “And, with any luck, it won’t be an issue at all. Hopefully, we’ll find Alexius and he’ll simply return you to when you left, none of this having ever happened. At least, I hope so. I can’t imagine how anyone could consider this a better world than the one before.”

“Neither can I,” Anaan acknowledged, “though in my experience, one man’s damnation can be another’s salvation.”

“True, though in this case, if anyone truly believes they’ve been saved, I have to imagine that they are far, far gone to begin with.”

Anaan couldn’t argue with that. They kept moving through the corridor, waiting for a Venatori ambush or another bunch of demons to appear. Instead, it was all too quiet. Even a room by room search only provided scattered notes that spoke to Alexius’s sanity eroding in this place. Whatever he’d hoped could come about from being able to manipulate and alter time on a whim, he clearly wasn’t succeeding at it. 

As they finished their sweep, Anaan glanced to Cullen, who looked like he was considering something, preparing to speak. Before he could, though, a group of Venatori emerged from a room, somehow having been missed in their initial search, forcing them into a fight. Two of them carried shards, leading Anaan to make a judgment call for them to return to the others. Given how they’d split up, the others had like found the other shards. There was no more time for talking.

He’d been right, and the result brought them face to face with Alexius. The encounter did not go as Anaan had expected. Alexius was a broken man, his son more living dead than a man. Though Anaan hadn’t wanted Leliana to kill him, find a way to persuade Alexius to help them, he could only call Felix’s final death in this time a mercy.

The fight left Alexius dead, Dorian picking up the same amulet that Anaan had seen Alexius use to send him and Dorian into this dark future in the first place, but they soon faced a new issue. The scream that echoed through the hall was the unmistakable cry of a terror demon. 

“Quickly! You have to use that amulet now!” Leliana demanded.

“I’ll need an hour to ensure that we are smeared across time itself!” Dorian protested.  
“That isn’t possible! There isn’t time for that!” she countered. As if to underscore her words, the castle rumbled, and there was yet another scream of terror demons.

Dorian nodded, looking a shade of green. “Your point is well taken.” He grabbed the amulet and moved towards the fire pit where Alexius had stood to send them into the future in the first place.

There was another rumble. Cassandra stepped forward. “We’ll face the demons, give you more time.”

“But you’ll die!” Anaan called out, not wanting anymore death.

Then he felt Cullen’s hand on his arm. “Herald... Adaar... We’re already dead. At least we can give you a chance to go back and make it possible that this never happens.” He looked to Anaan with a gentle look, as much as he could manage with the lyrium causing him pain. “We’ll protect you.”

“You will have as much time as I have arrows,” Leliana nodded, even as Varric and Cassandra headed for the door. 

But Cullen hesitated. He approached Anaan. “Before you go... Tell me... my past self... Take that chance. That he... I need not fear what I’m feeling. Nothing compares to the pain of not being able to do anything to change that.” It sounded like he was speaking just on the side of not saying something, that he wanted Anaan to pass on another message without knowing what it was.

Anaan didn’t have time to think about it before another terror demon scream came and Dorian began channeling the magic he needed into the amulet. Cullen took that opportunity to head for the door, joining the others in their fight against the demons that were coming.

Looking to Dorian, he saw the same portal forming that had sent them into the future to begin with. He kept his eyes on the others, saw them fighting the demons. They fought as well as they could, but the numbers were too great. Varric’s chest was torn open and he spun as he fell to the floor, Bianca falling out of his grasp for the last time. Cassandra hacked at various demonic limbs before a terror demon appeared behind her, jabbing its razor sharp claws straight through her back, the points of those claws tearing through armor, flesh, and bone. When it pulled its claws back, Cassandra pitched forward.

“Though darkness closes, I am shielded by flame. Andraste, guide me. Maker, take me to your side.” Leliana’s last words, of course, were a prayer to the god she believed in. Anaan glanced to Cullen, who looked back to him, raising his sword in a salute. 

Then the demons were on them.

Anaan gripped his staff, intending to throw off a few fireballs or something, something to offer them even a chance, but Dorian grabbed his arm. “You can’t! The extra magic could throw off what I’m doing here! They’re doing this for us!” he barked.

As the portal expanded, pulling them in, Anaan watched first Leliana then Cullen fade out of sight, knowing that they were going to die.

He only hoped that the same wasn’t about to be said of him and Dorian.

***

Mercifully, the time magic worked, depositing them both back moments after they’d left. Anaan ordered Inquisition forces to take Alexius into custody. Moments later, Anaan had a brush with royalty, the King and Queen of Ferelden had stormed into the castle, leading Anaan to call for the Inquisition to ally with the mages. With the Tevinter forces scrambling to get as far away from Redcliffe as possible, and the hospitality extended by Ferelden’s royal family at its end, the mages were willing to pack up quickly and leave the town. 

After giving a report on things to the advisors, who immediately began to start trying to figure out both what to do about the Elder One’s army of demons and the assassination of Empress Celene and make preparations for closing the Breach, Anaan saw Cullen hesitating, remaining in the war room, and he remained behind as well, waiting for Josephine and Leliana to return to their corners of the Chantry.

With nothing else to really distract him, Cullen looked to Anaan. “Was there anything else, Herald?”

“There was something. In the dark future, the... the future you... He wanted me to pass on a message.”

Cullen clearly didn’t know how to handle that. “A message?” He shook his head in disbelief. “That’s... somewhat difficult to get my mind around.”

“Tell me about it. I lived that dark future, and I’m still not sure what really happened.”

“What is this message he felt you needed to give me?”

“He said that you I needn’t fear what you’re feeling. That nothing compares to the pain of not being able to do anything to change it.” Anaan looked closely, trying to see if there was anything that explained what it was that Cullen’s future self had meant. “Does that... mean anything to you?”

It took Cullen a moment to respond. “I... It might.” He was quiet for a moment. Then he looked to Anaan. “You asked me once if... if there was anyone who was waiting for me in Kirkwall. An attempt at propositioning me, I believe?”

A possible explanation pieced itself together in Anaan’s mind, paired up with a handful of other, less pleasant options. Anaan simply nodded. “Yes.”

Cullen looked away, not seeming sure about what he’d just been told, or about what he wanted to say. “You said... You said that this future took place a year from now, with everyone believing you to be dead.” Anaan nodded, not quite ready to disrupt the moment with words. Cullen looked to him, seeming uncertain. “I... Did he say anything else to you? Anything that... I haven’t shared with you here and now?”

“He... told me about how he... you... chose to stop taking lyrium. There wasn’t really much time for us to talk.”

“No, I suppose there wouldn’t have been,” Cullen nodded. He took a deep breath, collecting himself. “Herald... You are a very important person, and I...”

Now, Anaan had to speak up. “Cullen, don’t downplay yourself. You’ve been as important as I have to the Inquisition. Sure, you’re not running around, closing rifts, but the Inquisition wouldn’t be where it is without you.” He didn’t see how the Inquisition would make it without Cullen’s work with the Inquisition’s forces. 

“Thank you for saying so, Herald, but-”

“No ‘buts,’ Cullen. And stop with the ‘Herald’ business. I’m more than that title, you realize.” Few people had seemed willing to acknowledge that since he’d emerged from that rift into the Fade. 

And Cullen nodded. “You are. My apologies, my friend.” He hesitated. “Anaan.” Anaan couldn’t resist a smile at the use of his name. It was a nice gesture. “I... I suppose it is easy to forget that you’re a person, not merely the Herald of Andraste. That title makes it easy to be intimidated.” He took a breath, then gave Anaan a serious look. “I have been trying to avoid discussing the lyrium with anyone. I don’t seek to be an object of pity. Unless it affected my work, I would likely have kept it from you for as long as possible.”

“I understand,” Anaan said. He’d known a handful of people in the Vashoth villages, people who’d escaped the Qun or the Tal Vashoth or both, who would spend days doped up and out of their minds, having been unable to accept the rigidity of the Qun but struggling with the options of individuality that came from rejecting it. Few of them willingly came out of those stupors. This wasn’t something most people cared to be open with, especially when surrounded by strangers.

Cullen nodded, smiling slightly at the understanding. “It... It’s not an easy thing to speak of. It... requires much of my focus. I have... I’ve believed that it requires all of my focus.” Cullen began to move around the war table. “Yet... Apparently, I wanted myself to know that... He wished he’d taken a chance that I still could. And I can think that only means one thing.” He made his way to Anaan, who wasn’t quite sure what to expect. 

And then Cullen, rising up on the tips of his toes and yanking Anaan’s head down, pulled him into a kiss. Anaan was surprised for a moment, but, as his mind caught up, returned the kiss.

When Cullen pulled back, it looked almost as if there were a weight that had fallen from his shoulders. “That was...”

“Very nice?” Anaan suggested.

“More than.” Cullen chuckled. “I’ve... held myself back from allowing myself to feel like I would find someone who would actually think that they could care for me in such a way.” He looked away from Anaan, suddenly seeming embarrassed. “I... have not always acted as honorably as I would have liked.”

Anaan lifted his head so that they were looking into each other’s eyes. “Cullen, the man I’ve known these last few weeks is an honorable man. I... I watched a version of you throw himself to demons, just to buy me a few extra seconds. I’ve literally watched you die for me. I won’t say you’re perfect, because I’ve yet to find any evidence that there is a perfect person out there. What I have seen, though, is a man of honor, a man who, whatever sins might be in his past, wants to make amends for them. And that... That makes you an honorable man.”

The words, much to Anaan’s surprise, given that he was already rather aware of how stubborn Cullen could be, actually seemed to sink in. “I... Thank you.” Gingerly, he stepped back. “I, um... suppose that we should return to the tasks at hand. There’s still... much to do before we make our attempt to seal the Breach.”

Anaan nodded. There was still business to attend to, no matter what they wanted to take their time to focus on. “True.” He paused a moment, giving Cullen a smile. “But when that’s done... I think we’re going to have a few things to discuss.”

The smile was returned. “Yes. I believe we will. I look forward to it, Anaan.”


End file.
